For Love of an Angel (The Fallen Warriors Series) (2 page)

Oh my God!

Eva’s mouth opened on an involuntary scream, but before she could utter a peep the man turned to face her.

"Be calm," he said, lifting one hand up, palm facing her. Just like that her vocal chords tightened. She couldn’t scream. Couldn’t move. Could only utter soft, strangled grunts that would be of absolutely no help at all.

She fought back her panic as he swiveled to face her full-on. His face was in shadow, but the light of the moon and the streetlights filtering in through the window showcased his sculpted pectorals and taut abs.

A man wearing no shirt who had the ability to contain her muscles and vocal chords. It seemed pretty clear what he was.

An angel. A freaking
angel
had flown in through her open window.
What the hell?

The angel grinned as if he’d guessed her train of thought. He nodded toward the window. "You never know what you’ll attract."

Holy crap! It was a good thing she was rooted in place, because she didn’t know if her legs would support her right now. What was going on here? Why would an angel pick her apartment, of all places, to fly in to?

"If I release your vocal chords, do you promise not to scream?"

Scream? Right now she thought she might faint. She made a strangled sound that came out as a cross between a croak and a squeak.

"I’ll take that a yes," he said in a dry voice. One flick of his hand and her vocal chords loosened.

Eva took a deep breath, keeping her gaze focused on the angel. A million questions crossed her mind. What was he doing here? Why had he chosen her apartment to invade? How did he manage to hide his wings so completely that it would be impossible to tell he was an angel just by looking at him? What came out of her mouth instead was, "Where’s your shirt?"

The angel laughed, a low, rolling sound that practically electrified her nerve endings. "Tends to get in the way of the wings. Besides, I don’t feel the cold the same way that you do." He stepped forward so his face was out of the shadows.

Eva involuntarily sucked in her breath. With dark hair and perfectly arched brows, a long, straight nose framed by an inhumanly symmetrical face, and bright topaz eyes that seemed to blaze right through her, he was easily the most perfect being she’d ever laid eyes on. Suddenly, she could begin to understand why humans worshipped angels as gods. Why so many of them would give anything just for a glimpse of one.

What could he possibly want with her?

She gave a nervous lick of her lips. "Wha-what are you doing here?"

He laughed again, the sound of it huskier this time. "I’m here, beloved, because you called to me."

Chapter Two

E
va stared at the angel standing in her living room. Her jaw went slack in pure astonishment. "I—I did
what
?"

He thought she’d called him? She didn’t even know how that would be possible.

Unless he’d actually heard her when she’d asked Travis if he ever wondered what the world would be like without angels. Oh God, he wasn’t here to
punish
her, was he?

Her heart gave an anxious thump.

The angel took a few steps toward her. He cocked his head to the side, eyes raking over her with an expression of interest. "Curious little creature. Most humans would be scared of me right now."

Oh shit.
Definitely sounded like he had punishment on the mind. She clenched her fists into tight little balls at her sides.
Stay calm, Eva. For all you know, he might not be able to do anything unless you confess your heresy in front of him.

She was proud of how calm her voice sounded when she asked, "Why do you think I’m not frightened of you?"

"Most humans would cower."

"That would be physically impossible right now," she pointed out, "since I still can’t move."

He looked nonplussed at that. One wave of his hand and her leg muscles unclenched. Sure enough, instinct drove her back a few steps. Unperturbed, he slowly stalked in her direction.

Eva’s back hit the wall. "What—what do you want with me?"

"I told you, beloved," his sensuous voice supplied. "You called to me."

"I...I don’t think I called you. Maybe someone else broke into my apartment and did it while I was working," she volunteered. The odds of that didn’t seem very likely, but it was as good an explanation as any.

He laughed, a gilded sound that settled in her eardrums like a soft caress. "I didn’t say you called me. You called
to
me."

Huh? Any question she might have asked died on her lips when he closed the space between them, coming to stand right in front of her. To her utter mortification, she let out a nervous squeak. It was just too unbelievable. An angel stood inches away from her, and he was...he was nothing like she’d expected.

For some reason she’d always thought angels would be pompous, sexless assholes. But this angel practically oozed sex. It poured off his bare, honey-toned flesh in waves. Lord, he was so
big
. At five foot seven inches, she was in no way petite, but he eclipsed her by a good six inches at least. He had the brawny build of a football player and the taut curves and angles of a man who achieved his figure the old-fashioned way, through hard work.

"Unbelievable," she murmured.

The angel rested one hand on the wall beside her. The other crept to the lock of black curls resting on her left shoulder. He closed his fingers around it and stretched the hair until it straightened. Then he let it go, watching it bounce back into place. "Fascinating."

He acted like he’d never seen a human before.

"Are...are you okay?" she asked him.

His topaz eyes met hers, flashing briefly. "Your scent."

"My...scent?" Did she smell bad to him or something?

He wound his hand through her hair and pushed forward, burying his nose in her neck.

Eva shrieked. She couldn’t help herself. "What the hell are you doing?"

He chuckled and drew back, unwinding his hand from her hair and resting it on her other side, effectively trapping her between his arms.

"Your essence," he explained in a hoarse tone. "It calls to me."

"My essence?"

Suddenly it all fell into place. The clandestine way in which he’d snuck into her home, the hungry look on his face, the claims that she’d "called" to him. He...
wanted
her.

Her legs went boneless and she wobbled in place before locking her knees.

"I don’t understand. I didn’t think angels liked humans, um...you know, in
that
way."

The angel shot her a brief grin that almost stopped her heart. Charm and determination and a hint of some other emotion she couldn’t identify filtered off him. "Not all angels feel that way."

Well, color her surprised. She’d never heard of an angel showing sexual interest in a human. Quite the opposite, in fact. Rumor had it they were steadfastly opposed to "contamination" of the species. And yes, that specific word had been used.

"Tell me, beloved"—he lowered his face so it was inches from hers, the spicy scent of his breath wafting over her—"does my essence not call to you?"

She couldn’t deny it did. The heat from his body curled around her in tendrils of lust, winding down to her nipples, which hardened, then further down between her legs. She clenched her thighs at the sudden rush of moisture there and the angel inhaled, his eyes glazing over almost as if he could smell her desire.

"I—I don’t even know your name."

"It’s Michael," he rumbled deep in his throat.

"I—" She swallowed hard. "I’m Eva."

"I know." He let out a soft laugh, his eyes flashing in the dark. "And I can see my essence does call to you."

Wait, he knew her name? How? But before she could ask he began to nuzzle her neck, moving his right hand to tangle in her locks once again. It was so astounding. An
angel
was nibbling on her. She should push him away. Right?

But then his tongue slid against her throat and she lost herself in the sensation. His mouth was electrifying.

Her hands moved of their own accord, sliding up his hard abs to his pectorals. "Yes," she sighed. There was no use denying she wanted him. When her thumbs grazed his nipples he shuddered, moving his lips up to her ear.

Sweet heavens. She had never expected...this. For angels to be such seductive creatures. For one of them to want
her
, of all people. But she found she couldn’t resist him. Didn’t want to. No one had ever made her feel pure desire before. Surely not scrawny Travis. This was a feeling to be treasured.

When Michael’s hand strayed from her locks to her shoulder then further down, she did nothing to protest. His thumb grazed her nipple much like she’d done to his, and the taut bud practically hummed from the vibration he emitted through his touch. He removed his other hand from the wall and started to unbutton her sleep shirt, flicking his tongue against her ear all the while.

This was heaven. Amazing.

Why hadn’t she ever heard of anything like this happening before? True, angels were rare. There were rumored to be less than two hundred in all of existence. But still, you’d think there would have been at least some murmur of the angels’ prowess. A clandestine gossip tabloid confession. Something. But no, she’d certainly never heard of anything like this before.

Eva barely noted the air grow cooler on her flesh when her shirt was drawn open. Only in passing did she recall that she wasn't wearing underwear.

"So beautiful, beloved," Michael whispered in a hoarse tone. He ran his thumbs across her nipples, the hum of his energy so much more intense with the lack of fabric between them. Her skin tingled where he touched her, spreading downward in waves. He slid one hand between her thighs, rubbing two fingers along her seam, already slickened with the moisture of her desire. Just the barest touch of his fingers and she was already on the precipice of a screaming orgasm.

Wouldn’t someone have blabbed about having a sexual experience like this? Something didn’t add up here.

"Wait," she gasped, grabbing onto his wrist when he would have made another pass with his fingers.

He looked up, a disgruntled expression on his face. "Wait?"

Her instincts of self-preservation, along with years of programming regarding the superiority of angels, warned her she was in dangerous territory. But she’d be damned if she’d submit to anyone, angel or no, just because of the power they held over her.

"I’m sorry," she half panted. "I just...I don’t even know anything about you, or if I only want you so badly because you’re putting out some sort of
fuck-me
vibes or something. I feel like I have no control here."

Michael frowned and drew away. "You think I would manipulate your will? That is tantamount to rape. I would never do such a thing."

Great, she’d just offended an angel. Not only had that not been her intent, but common sense told her it wasn’t wise to piss off a creature she knew next to nothing about. She drew her shirt closed, shooting him an uncomfortable glance. "I didn’t mean to imply anything like that."

He turned and ran a hand through his hair, sparking a cascade of ripples down his magnificent back. It was the first gesture he’d made that looked entirely human. "Anything you feel for me is not any more than what I feel for you."

With those cryptic words, he moved back toward the window. It had stopped raining outside, the ominous gray of the storm displaced by the orange cast of artificial light. Something about his face as he looked out toward the streets seemed so sad. It was an astonishing surprise. Did angels ever feel that emotion?

Uncertain, Eva buttoned her shirt and took a few steps forward. "I just...I’ve never heard of angels taking an interest in humans before. From everything I’ve seen and heard, I was under the impression your kind doesn’t like mine very much."

Michael made a soft sound, though he didn’t shift his gaze from the view outside the window. "Tell me, Eva, how many angels have you known?"

"Well, none," she admitted, stepping up to the window beside him. "It’s not like you hang out with humans a lot of the time."

"You know so little about our kind," he murmured. "Not to mention your own heritage. What a difficult road we have ahead of us."

Brushing aside the cryptic "heritage" remark for the moment, she proffered, "I’m willing to learn about your kind. But I have to know, what is it that drew you here to me?"

"I told you, your essence call—"

"Called to me, yeah I know," she interrupted, turning to face him. "But what does that
mean
? I mean, why me, of all people?"

He looked at her and his lips twisted into a wry grin. "As you humans say, that’s a long story, and one best left for a more appropriate time."

"What do you mean, more appropriate?" she pressed. It sounded like a copout to her.

Michael arched a brow and replied bluntly. "You’re not yet ready to know, Eva. When you are, it will be told to you."

She let out a pointed sigh, resting her hands at her waist. The darned angel was so confusing.

A shadow of a smile crossed his face. He turned to look out the window again. "You’re right about one thing, Eva. Most angels do feel that humans are beneath them."

"Most?" Something about that word set her on edge.

"They would consider lying with a human to be the lowest thing an angel could do. They might even believe the world would be better off without humankind in it."

Yes, something was very wrong here.
Most
, he’d said.

"But you don’t feel that way," she whispered.

"No."

"You’re different from
most
."

"Yes," he agreed, turning to face her.

The world took a lazy spin as the pieces fell into place. For a moment she suffered a feeling of vertigo and feared she might fall, but then everything righted itself once again.